


Long black coat in the downpour

by Writer156



Series: AB/AP Collection [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Based on a Fall Out Boy Song, Canon Compliant, F/M, I don't know if this is a poem or a story, Inspired by Poetry, Not A Fix-It, Not Beta Read, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 09:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16513994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer156/pseuds/Writer156
Summary: A study of Bruce and Natasha's relationship over the yearsBased on Jet Pack Blues by Fall Out Boy





	Long black coat in the downpour

She stands confident.  
The red hair and black dress stands out in the slums and she knows it, she was never meant to fit in. He tries to fade into his purple and brown but she holds him, captures him. And he senses the feeling is mutual.

 

So he goes.  
The ship is huge, the people robotic and it’s almost overwhelming to the point of his repressed noises on the verge of coming back. Her face is cold but behind closed doors she exchanges soft smiles and grazing touches. He sees a hidden sympathy within her.

 

Plans are scrapped.  
He's not sure who he can trust, certainly not the organisation that brought them together. But they're here, on the edge of an apocalypse, and they know what they must do. She cracks a joke, he holds back a smile. She hopes they survive.

 

It's all over.  
They can pack up and move on with their lives. Just another mission. But she slips her number into his jacket pocket, not really knowing why. She finds a number in her vest not long after he leaves.

 

He comes back.  
They meet in a pub, splitting a drink neither of them can get drunk off, and talk of what they missed. Tony is better, Steve is a mess, and Jane finally talked to her boyfriend. She pays for the concoction, even though he protests.

 

They are tired.  
Missions for one, lab tests for the other, with coffee breaks their only solace. Still they find time, and sip in silence, not knowing what to say but comfortable all the same. She wonders if this is what home feels like.

 

She shuts off.  
Why wouldn't she? Her covers were ripped from her, she was shot too close to home, her work burned to the ground. He holds her close and thinks of saying “I love you.” He stays silent.

 

It's never easy.  
But they'll wait alone outside, coat dripping and tapping their feet to the rhythm of the rain, giving the other time to change their mind. It's the least they could do. They both understand.

  
———-

  
She doesn't understand.

Neither does he.

  
———

  
But he leaves.  
He knows he has to, he's too broken for this world, he has to go. He hopes she'll remember the good times, but he's not optimistic. His rage holds his hand to her on the screen, and shuts it off. In the back of his mind, a voice cries.

  
———-

  
She waits outside his apartment, watching the rain fall as the locks are changed and though she still stands tall, same red hair and dress, her thoughts are clouded.  
She heads to their pub, but can't bring herself to finish her drink. She leaves half for the man who's never coming back. A toast to a love that almost was. 

 

 


End file.
